


A Week of Miraculous Dabbles

by Magical_Awesome_Kid



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Affection, Akuma, Ancient History, Fluff, Friends and Family - Freeform, Gen, MLStaffAppreciation, MLWeek, Post a day
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 03:45:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5275247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magical_Awesome_Kid/pseuds/Magical_Awesome_Kid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dedicated to MLWeek, I attempt to write a dabble a day according to the day's prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Affection

**Author's Note:**

> Plagg isn’t just a cheese-eating glutton. He has his own way of helping his boy along.

            Adrien was always complaining how Plagg was a troublesome Kwami. He tended to eat his weight (and then some) in very expensive, very _smelly_ cheese every day. He had a tendency to make “stashes” around the boy’s room, causing it to REAK when Adrien hadn’t noticed one for too long or forgot to leave the AC on full blast that day. He got into trouble at the slightest of encouragement. He was the embodiment of chaos if you would ask Adrien.

            But there were other things that Adrien would also say.

            Adrien wasn’t as unobservant as some made him out to be. In fact, it was quite the opposite. While as Chat Noir, he took on more of Plagg’s rashness and boldness, but, out of uniform, Adrien was able to analyze every move.

            Adrien doesn’t think that Plagg knows he knows. Adrien remembers the many nights after late patrols or terrible homework sessions or long days were he’d fall asleep at his desk, overworked and exhausted, and, by the next morning, he would have a blanket cast over his shoulders and a small but soft pillow curled under his arms.

            There were days when Plagg, causing his usual mischief, would suddenly see Adrien down about something. It was usually his father, and Plagg knew it. On those days, the Kwami gave his best support, quiet encouragement and small nudges, and he tried desperately to cheer Adrien up by whatever means necessary.

            I mean, he _had_ to know the difference between toilet paper and cheese. He was a several-thousand-year-old creature for crying out loud.

            Then there were the cat’s nudges. As Adrien, the boy was stifled in his thoughts, pushed into a box that he had assembled himself. In the world of isolation he had grown up in, Adrien learned to be prim and proper.

            But as Chat, oh, as Chat that box came crumbling down at the first yell of “Claws on!” _This_ Adrien, Chat Noir, was the embodiment of everything he loved about himself, everything he wanted to show the world. Plagg pushed him out of the box, in costume and out of, and, slowly, Adrien was able to see bits of Chat spill over to Adrien.

            Plagg wasn’t a perfect guardian. He had his flaws that Adrien complained about often. However, there were those sweet moments such as that night, the boy so disjointed over his father’s sudden cancellation of plans in lieu of a shoot in Rome, when Adrien knew Plagg cared. Plagg had come over when Adrien had curled up in bed, PJs already on at six, and offered, without hesitation or games, to let the boy go for a run across the city. There was the moment when they passed one of Adrien’s favorite cafes and Plagg, instead of complaining that the boy was taking forever, suggested he stop for some dinner (and _boy_ did Adrien get a kick out of seeing all the diners stop and stare as _Chat Noir_ of all people strolled in to order a hot sandwich to go). They had even run into Ladybug, and, instead of Plagg’s teasing in the back of his mind, the Kwami was quiet as Adrien talked like a _normal person_ (well, as normal as he could be as Chat) to his Lady (he even got a few brownie points sharing his chips with her as she had yet to eat as well).

            Then the night had finalized with where he was now. In the dark of his large room, the only space in his house that had any personality, Adrien was exhausted but smiling as he curled in bed. On top of a pillow just next to his head, Plagg was curled up in deep sleep, muttering about cheese and brie and more dairy things.

            Adrien smiled at the small guardian.

            He had his way of showing his affection towards the boy, and, if Adrien slipped him a few more cubes of cheese as thanks, he was sure the cat kwami would not complain.


	2. Friends and Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was no crisp line between them and the others. Friends, people they cared for, family, all were one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 of MLWeek!
> 
> ON WITH THE SHOW!!!

            Sabine Dupain-Cheng had grown up with little family. She was an only child to two only children in Hong Kong, and her parents had passed just after she had started university in England. She was distraught at their passing and flew back, but, after, she had left for good. She’d taken what little was important. What was useless, she sold off to support herself in her studies. She knew her parents would want her to complete her studies no matter what.

            Then, in her third year in England studying languages and economics, she met the love of her life, Tomas “Tom” Dupain. He’d been spending a year as an apprentice at one of the high-end restaurants. Thankfully, her French was better than his English, and his Chinese was nonexistent. They exchanged letters, him waiting patiently and encouraging her studies. She, in turn, gave him plenty of tips to achieve his own dream – to run his own business, do what he loves, which happened to be baking.

            And, from the gift packages she was always receiving from the man, she knew he could cook and bake.

            When she completed her degree, she’d flown out to see the city of Paris for the first time, and Tom had shown her the town as only a local could. She was enchanted by the city, and she wanted to stay there forever.

            Tom gave her that option when, on her last in Paris, he proposed to her with a simple silver band with a little red ruby set in it. On the inside, he had the word _love_ engraved three times – once in English, once in French, and once in Chinese.

            Then she’d married into a huge family all over again. His took to her so quickly, enthralled by her studies and their plans. Thanks to her business savvy and his skill, they eventually opened a small bakery together.

            Twenty years later, they had scaled to one of the largest and most famous bakeries in Paris. They had a beautiful daughter, a loving family for sure.

            But Sabine’s love for them wasn’t limited by blood or marriage. She had come to tear down her walls between what was family and what was not. The French ways had done her good.

            All of her close friends were like her sisters and brothers. She remembers the first time Alya’s mother had walked into the newly-opened shop looking for inspiration while on maternity leave (she was seven-months pregnant at the time) whist a three-year-old with bright eyes and beautiful skin bounced along with her. Alya and Marinette met as the mothers were discussing food, and the rest was history from there. Alya was as much her daughter and Marinette’s sister as Marinette was theres. Then came Nino and his father, an economist at the local college, who Sabine could talk to for hours about the recent policies. More and more children came in and out of the doors of her shop, and she accepted them all as her kids as long as Marinette wanted to be their friends.

            It never stopped, especially when a shy Adrien Agreste first walked through her doors. It was obvious her daughter was smitten with him, and the boy had feelings for her daughter as well. She had practically adopted the boy when she heard of his family situation (or lack-of) reminding her coldly of the feeling of living without parents.

            No, it was worse for him. She knew her parents loved her, but the boy seemed to always seek out love, validation. He was in need of family dearly.

            Now here she was, a sixty-something with her house filled with little cheers once more. Her family had grown just a bit more now as three little catbugs, as her daughter and son-in-law referred to them, running rampant through the warm home. Behind each, little creatures followed, bright and cheery and more little buggers for her to dote on and spoil.

            She had no definition of family. She cared for all equally, and, if someone wanted family, she offered open arms.

 

            Family was what you made if it, after all.


	3. Akuma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theory: The akumized victims are always left with scars of their endeavors. In exhange for their memories of evil, they retain bits of power so small that they do not notice. Nathanael, on the other hand, wasn’t that bad of a villain, so he retained just a bit more than a bit…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is part of a theory on how the memory v. powers work, because, honestly, not everything is suddenly fixed when the butterfly is purified.
> 
> People like Alix and her brother, who literally tried to kill people for what they wanted, would retain the least of their powers in exchange for forgetting everything terrible that happened. Nathanael, on the other hand, asked Marinette to go on a date (which is honestly SO SWEET AND NOT EVIL) so...
> 
> ON WITH THE SHOW!

            Nathanael had a secret. He’d retained this secret since he’d woken up in the Bourgeois hotel with no memories since he had left Physics that morning. Like many other students in his class and people around the city, he eventually pieced together that he’d been turned into an akuma only to be saved by Ladybug and Chat Noir. They reassured him, the next day, that none was his fault, that it was an evil villain’s doing. Nathanael still had felt bad about it.

            However, that evening when he was wallowing, that’s when it happened the first time. He’d been doodling a highly realistic puppy from images he’d pulled up on his phone. He had been left to his devices by his parents, who knew not of what had happened, but he’d desperately wanted to talk to _someone._ Someone who would not judge him at all, and that led him to drawing man’s best friend.

            Only, once he’d completed the image and pulled the pencil off the sheet of paper, there was a sudden YIP before the dog bound out of the sheet of printer paper.

            To say Nathanael was shocked was an understatement. No, he yelled, fell over off his bed and got _as far away_ from the dog as he could. Yet, the little creature stared at him from atop his own covers, little tail wagging back and forth with these huge, beautiful eyes. It barked at him again before it turned and started… licking itself.

            Ok, that was kinda adorable, even Nathanael, in all his panicked glory, had to admit.

            Slowly, he approached as the dog continued to lick itself. When Nathanael was at the edge of the bed, the tiny creature, no bigger than ten inches in height sitting up, the same size as he had drawn it on the paper, looked over again. Nathanael froze, but the puppy didn’t. It grabbed the dropped pencil and _tackled_ into Nathanael with all it’s might (which barely knocked the wind out of the boy) and started to jump up and down excitedly, nudging it’s nose into his shirt as if the little dog wanted to play.

            _Of course he wants to play it’s a puppy._ Nathanael’s mind supplied as he took the offered pencil. There was no drool on it but there were marks of pencil led where the dog had bitten it. Nathanael lightly tossed it to the other end of the bedspread as the dog scampered off, retrieved it, and came back.

            Nathanael did it again. And again. And again. Soon, Nathanael was on the bed giving the tiny puppy the belly rub of his life, and the little creature seemed not to complain. Instead, the dog just kept yapping happily and playing along until, tiredly, it dropped into Nathanael’s folded legs and was out cold.

            It was in this moment, as he watched the puppy’s chest rise and fall, felt the weird warmth (not like body warm but like paper off the fax machine warm) rolling off the soft fur. Said fur, as Nathanael stroked it, gave off specks of pencil led onto his fingers.

            “Nathanael! Dinner!” His mother had called, snapping him out of his thoughts.

            Then he realized that he still didn’t know what to do.

            Nathanael reacted. “COMING MOM!” He returned as he picked up the puppy. He looked around, trying to find somewhere to hide it. Maybe in the closet? No, it would cause trouble there. Maybe under the bed? Like THAT would work. Nathanael stood, setting the dog back on the bedspread. He looked around for a box maybe, but when he looked back, it was gone.

            Where he’d placed it, not even realizing so, it had been where the paper from which the dog had come from lay. Nathanael approached and looked down at the page. On it, a little puppy snoozed.

            Curiosity killed the cat, but this was honestly the coolest thing he’d ever have happen to him. He drew all the more in the safety of his room, drafting away with pencils, pens, markers, paints, digital… Everything he drew that he poured his heart into, everything he wanted to _breathe life into,_ would be able to leap off wherever he’d drawn it. They’d be the same size as drawn, same media even. He’d once done geometric shapes in paint, and, as they floated in his room, if the paint was wet when he “pulled” it off the page, they remained wet to the touch, leaving paint on his fingers. If they were dry, they were like dried paint but so much more real.

            He found traditional pencils were his best. This was probably because he was mainly a traditional artist. He found that he could, too, pull and push things off the page, so his little puppy, renamed Charcoal for it’s coat of dark pencil, became a constant fixture in his room. He’d framed the picture (without the glass, as he’d learned it made things so much harder to pull out) and had it hanging on the wall next to his bed. He’d gotten so good that, on any given day, he could being up to twenty of his little sketches to life, watching as soldiers in Gauche fought the French Revolution, as little airplanes of charcoal flew through the air, as towers of castles and maidens and men fell out of the screen onto his floor. As Charcoal, who was by far the largest, chased everything and everyone that moved. Nathanael had laughed when the kings had tried to turn Charcoal into their pet “dragon” to defend the castle.

            Then, with a snap of his fingers, they would all rush back to their media homes. The chaos would subside as Nathanael was left with cleaning up all the leftover art splotches that dried paint and pencil left in its wake.

            He never brought it up with anyone, not his parents, his classmates, and for sure Ladybug and Chat Noir. He had come to adore what he could do, and, with the limits to his powers (he pretty much was bound by the size of his art board – or screen – and the largest paper he owned was 11 by 14 inch sketch paper; on top of this, he couldn’t animate everything at once – he’d tried, and he’d been left with a bloody nose and a splitting headache), he really couldn’t cause harm.

            So here Nathanael was, at his spot in the back of the classroom doodling once more. He watched as his little Ladybug and Chat Noir, while still on paper, climbed up and down the lines of his page, fighting some enemy he’d yet to come up with…

            He was so focused that he missed as someone came up next to him…

            “Hey Nath!” Nathanael jumped out of his chair, flailing about as Marinette stood next to him. “OH MY GOSH! Sorry, are you ok? I didn’t mean to scare you!”

            Nathanael laughed hesitantly. “Yeah, no, I’m fine…”

            She was looking at his page.

            He jumped up, covering the page.

            “I-is th-there something you needed?” He asked begging every deity that he knew that she hadn’t seen.

            Marinette blinked a couple of times. “Oh, uh… I forgot now. I’m sorry, I was distracted by your work.” She giggled. “For a second, it looked so realistic that I thought it was actually fighting a monster.”

            Nathanael glanced down, and, thankfully, his characters had frozen in their fighting stance. He laughed, hesitantly, as he closed the book.

            “Yeah, wouldn’t that be something.” Nathanael added with a small smile.

            The boy had a secret.

            He was going to keep it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nath is my baby and no one can take that from me :D


	4. The History of Ladybug and Chat Noir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was a noble girl. He was her slave boy. He was also the lucky demigod looking out over the city of Athens, and he was sure the cat goddess whom came to his rescue was in love with him.  
> She deserved a god, though, and not a slave boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm Greek. I've studied the ancient world. I love Ladybug and Chat Noir. I also love Gentlebug and Lady Noir.
> 
> Is it any wonder I wrote this?
> 
> ON WITH THE SHOW!

            The young boy ran through the alleyways of the marvelous city as people yelled and screamed around him. He had been sent out with the head slave to retrieve supplies for libations, but he’d lost the other man when the screaming had begun.

            It worked out all the better for the boy.

            “Tikki,” He muttered as he lifted the fabric that stretched over his chest. From the rough wool came a small creature. She was no larger than the size of his palms, and she was a gift from above blessed to him. He was a chosen, she had claimed, much to the boy’s shock. He, a simple slave, was a child of prophecy under the great gods. He was here to defend the city from the titans and evils that threatened it. “We need to get out there and stop the creature.”

            Tikki nodded looking to where the screaming originated. “Say the word, Alexios.”

            The boy, no older than fifteen, smirked as he pushed back the dark, redish-black locks that obscured his ears. There, on each, was a black dot drilled into his ears. He did not remember how he had received them, but he had always assured his current master that they were a mark of slavehood.

            But no, they were a mark of godhood.

            “Spots ON!” He cheered as Tikki flew into his right ear. Beautiful red magic engulfed the boy, throwing his longish locks back as he closed his dark brown eyes.

            He felt the magic swirl around him. The roughness of his simple tunic transformed into a dual-strapped tunic, made of the smoothest but toughest silk. His feet in rough sandals were now wrapped in fine leather, he knew, all black to match the black spots that adorned his red tunic. His wrists were wrapped in gold and black up to the elbow, protecting his forarms as his chest was covered in a similar armor under the tunic. His shoulders and legs were wrapped in black material, able to take a hit harder than any soldier could throw. He opened his eyes, now turned a brilliant gold, as red spread out from between his eyes to past his ears. His hair was curled now, not unlike a god from above, and a yo-yo lain on his hip.

            In a flash of light to all else, the simple slave boy was transformed into the hero of the city, Kerios Entimos.

            Without pause, the boy used his newfound strength to take to the skies, leaping from wall to wall until he was launched into the air above all the buildings around. Below, those who saw the flash of red in the heavens above cheered, their godly protector returned to defend Athens.

            The creature appeared to be one of Skoros’ creatures, a creature with the heads of a lion, snake, and goat. It’s body was a deadly mix of all three, and, around it’s neck on a rough strand of rope was a single coin bearing the mark of Hades.

            “Hey, ugly!” Entimos called as the creature turned it’s head upwards. Entimos bared his yo-yo as he looked down. “Pick on someone your own size!”

            The creature reared up and roared. It charged at the building that Entimos had been standing on as people below scattered. Entimos dove as the building began to crumble, grabbing as many who were about to take them to safety.

            “MAMA!” From inside the building, a child’s voice cried.

            “KORITSI!” A woman Entimos had just saved returned. Before Entimos could run back, the creature, a Chimera, roared up and charged again at another crowd. Entimos threw his yo-yo, stopping the creature as it tied up it’s legs, but he had no time to save the child.

            Then he didn’t have to.

            As the building came down, a black figure dove into an upper window as the wall came down. A silver rod shot out, carrying with it a woman that had to be a goddess herself. Rich brown locks curled around her shoulders and came up behind her head into an intricate knot. Her ears, obscured, gave way to a set of black pointed ones at the top of her head. Her body was clad in armor deserving of Athena, silver over her lower legs and arms embroidered with swirls of black. Her tunic fell to her knees, all black with a tight grip over her chest down to the waistband. The excess fabric from around her waist fell to the ground like a tail, meeting the ground where black leather not unlike his own shoes met the scorched ground. Her blue eyes were slitted as black swirled around the upper half of her face to accent those bright eyes so beautifully.

            In her arms was a child crying for its mother.

            Nihta Gata smirked as she let the child run towards the woman before joining Entimos as the chimera came lose. “Find his weak spot yet, my sweet?”

            “I’m thinking the coin, Gata.” He returned with a smirk. “Think you can grab it so we can defeat this thing? I wanted to get some shopping done today, after all.”

            “My little bug always seems to be so busy!” She threw as she bared her staff. On one hand, a black ring with a green paw looked back. “Well, you owe me a night on the town, my honey bee.”

            “Not a bee.” He threw before they attacked.

            In no time, with the help of a bucket of water and a little destruction, the Chimera was returned to that of a priest. The boy heard the tone of his earrings give that he had little time left, and, as he turned to his partner, she planted a small kiss on his cheek. “Keep in touch, honey.” She smiled before launching into the sky.

            The boy blushed as he ran away from the cheering crowds. _If only she knew that I could never earn her love. She’s a goddess, and I am nothing._ He thought as he disappeared to transform. After all, he needed to get back before the attack held no more excuse. He needed to get the wine for his master’s dinner so that he might appease them.

            He hoped they let him serve. Maybe he could lay eyes on the girl who had stolen his heart, the daughter of the master, the beautiful Demetra.

            He sighed as he transformed back, promising Tikki that he would sneak her some sweets later. No one would miss a few pieces amongst the display.

* * *

             Across town in a beautiful villa, Nihta Gata landed on a balcony just as black magic gave way. In her place there stood a girl with long brown locks curling down her head and around her shoulders. Her brilliant blue eyes took in the mastery of her own quarters of the home, not yet disturbed by the servants when she had told them that she was taking a nap for a headache. No one would disturb their mistress, after all.

            Oh, but she loved to leave this home. As a noble woman, she was unable to do what she wished. Soon, she would even be moved, betrothed to a man that she did not care for as she cared for her Entimos. She knew her actions were carefully watched as a noble woman, but, outside these walls in her armor, no one could touch her.

            Well… She’d allow one man to touch her.

            “DEEEMMMEETTRRRAAA…. I’M HUNGRY!!!” Plagg whined to her as he hid in a box she had placed a small pillow in. She giggled at the cat’s antics. He, a messenger of the gods, was much like her. He had to maintain appearances, she was sure, for the lords and ladies above, but here they were able to be free.

            “I will have someone send something up.” She nodded as she adjusted her robes. She took one last glance out at the city as the sun set on the horizon, Helios pulling it along swiftly. She watched it set on the horizon for a time before Plagg’s dramatic moaning reached her ears once more. Turning, she smiled to the little cat before exiting the room to find a servant. Sure enough, in the hallway beyond, she found a boy about her age rushing around in slave wear.

            “You there.” The boy froze, looking around before turning back to the girl. She smiled at his panicked looks. “You’re not in trouble. Your name is…?”

            “A-Alexios, ma’am.” He stuttered looking up at her.

            She giggled. _Such a silly boy._ “Alexios, a lovely name. Would you mind, please, to fetch me some drinks and some small food? Perhaps some feta and some olives along with some fruit? Whatever is freshest today.”

            He nodded quickly. “Yes ma’am.”

            “You can call me Demetra, alone anyway.” She added a bit selfishly. She knew the slaves had to treat her with respect, but she detested the younger ones doing so. It made her feel _so old._

            The boy stiffened but, with one smile from her, he calmed a bit. “Yes Ma- ah, Miss Demetra.”

            “Good, now go off!” She shooed him off as he nodded, taking off down the hallway with newfound speed. However, she giggled before yelling, “The kitchens are the other way!”

            The boy froze, turned hesitantly as he gave her a small smile. “I knew that! I’m, ah, taking a short cut!” With that, he did the unbelievable.

            He ran to the end of the corridor, past the turn and out the window.

            Demetra gasped, running out and looking down. Just below the window was a large pile of hay freshly delivered. The boy pulled himself out as another slave began to scold him, but he yelled something about her snacks and ran out to the front of the house.

            _Some short cut._ She giggled as she turned back to her room.

            What a silly boy indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alexios means "defender" in old Greek while "Kerios Entimos" translates to "Sir Insect" (best I could get for Ladybug).
> 
> Skoros is Hawk, aka Hawk Moth.
> 
> Demetra is the feminine version of Demeter, goddess of the earth and translates to "love of Earth" whist "Nihta Gata" means "Night Cat" (which I liked better than Black Cat).
> 
> Koritsi means doll, a common term of endearment for little girls.
> 
> Happy Turkey Day to my US readers!
> 
> To everyone else Happy Thursday!


	5. Puns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug was sure that THIS was the worst villain they’d ever faced. Honestly, the most purrfect catastrophic situation… DAMNIT!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EHEHEHE Cat puns and Disney songs. BEST COMBO!

            The Professor soared over Paris, shooting off purple lights left and right. As the heroes had found out, these rays, upon hitting their targets, could transform speech patterns forcing those to speak in a “literary tongue” i.e. everything from Shakespeare quotes to American Slang.

            The heroes had, unfortunately, learned this first hand. “You've got some power in your corner now! Some heavy ammunition in your camp!” Chat sang, _sang_ , because of all things he could only now speak in Disney song lines. Thankfully, she could pick out what he meant: _This guy is strong. What now?_

            Ladybug felt like this was literally a curse. No, Chat’s singing voice wasn’t that bad, but the fact that she had to deal with his singing on top of her curse…

            “We have to distract him somehow, but we have to take purrecaution.” She said with a wince. Cat puns. She could only speak in _cat puns._ Chat, from the way he was giggling next to her, was just laughing it up. “Stop laughing meow. This is purrfectly serious situation.”

            “Oh my. No no. My my my. Can your friends do this? Can your friends do that? Can your friends pull this out their little hat?” He tilted his head with a bow of his baton.

            “I am nefur efur watching Aladdin with you fur the rest of my days.” Ladybug threw with a frown.

            Chat rolled his eyes before he turned to the Akuma, still above and sprouting out line after line of Robert Frost and appalled at the under education of the city. “Look at this stuff, isn't it neat? Wouldn't you think my collection's complete? Wouldn't you think I'm the girl The girl who has everything?”

            “You want to cat something, kitten? Don’t you have pawlenty?”Ladybug returned as she peered over at the person herself.

            Chat got a sour look on his face like he wanted to hit her now, and Ladybug was suddenly taking great pleasure in her ability to speak, at the very least, outside of song. “Look there she goes that girl is so peculiar, I wonder if she's feeling well With a dreamy, far-off look and her nose stuck in a book!” Chat returned as he pointed up to the Akuma again.

            Ladybug turned her head to the sky again to see the man waving his hands around. In one, there was a darkened journal that, even from here, she could tell reeked of black, evil magic. Her eyes hardened on the target. “You’ve cat to be kitten me. It’s a book?”

            “Hakuna Matata, what a wonderful phrase! Hakuna Matata, ain’t no passing craze!” Chat even gave jazz-hands.

            The blue-haired girl was sure that the blonde boy was just totally screwing with her now. “I think this calls fur LUCKY CHARM!” From the swirl of light, a dictionary fell to her hand. “What? A furreaking book? You have GOT to be kitten me! I don’t need more cat puns…”

            “Look there she goes that girl is strange, no question! Dazed and distracted, can’t you tell?” Chat noted as he stroked his chin as if there was a beard there.

            The girl turned her eyes to the sky again, and, suddenly, her eyes began to focus on certain points. There was an unstable statue, a tall building, and her eyes on the akumized book itself. “I think I might have a purrfect pawlan, but I’m going to need a distraction and some catastrophe. I need him undepurr the unstable statue befure you pulfurize it to dust.” She winced. “Purrferably before I kill myself just to stop hearing these puns. Ready Kitty?” She said, using a bit of silent hand jabbing to portray her plan. They’d worked together for so long that it didn’t take much for her kitten to understand.

            He gave her a grin and a thumbs up. “Oh, isn't this amazing? It's my fav'rite part because --- you'll see. Here's where she meets Prince Charming , but she won't discover that it's him 'til chapter three!” He cheered before he vaulted over the wall they had been hiding behind and, using his staff, launched up onto the statue she had pointed to.

            Ladybug watched, crossing her fingers that Chat knew a good way to distract the Akuma…

            “Sing with me now! Sha-la-la-la-la-la My, oh, my look at the boy too shy, he ain’t gonna kiss the girl! Sha-la-la-la-la-la ain’t that sad ain’t it shame, too bad you gonna miss the girl!

            “Now’s your moment floating in a blue lagoon. Boy, you better do it soon. No time will be better, She don’t say a word, and she won’t say a word until you kiss the girl!”

            With that, as the Akuma approached, Chat shot an air kiss to Ladybug, and she pretended to catch it and smash it in her fist.

            She was going to kill the cat.

            As soon as she could speak properly.

            And she DID NOT require a kiss to do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special shout out to Kawagaurdian who said "imagine Chat singing Kiss the Girl to Ladybug."
> 
> And then... I couldn't help it... It just had to happen :D


End file.
